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‘I want to make a donation to the church,’ said Robin. ‘I was told I should see Mazu about it.’
‘Oh, I see. Yes, carry on, she’s in there,’ said Becca, pointing towards the office. She and Zhou walked away, their voices too low for Robin to catch what they were saying.
Bracing herself slightly, Robin approached the office door and knocked.
‘Come,’ said Mazu, and Robin entered.
The office, which had been added to the rear of the building, was so cluttered and colourful, and smelled so strongly of incense, that Robin felt as though she’d stepped through a portal into a bazaar. A profusion of statuettes, deities and idols were crammed onto the shelves.
Daiyu’s enlarged photograph sat in a golden frame on top of a Chinese cabinet, where joss paper was burning in a dish. Flowers and small offerings of food had been laid out in front of her. For a split second Robin felt a wholly unexpected spasm of compassion for Mazu, who sat facing her at an ebony desk that resembled Zhou’s, wearing her long blood-red dress, her black waist-length hair falling either side of her white face, her mother-of-pearl fish pendant glimmering on her chest.
‘Rowena,’ she said, unsmiling, and Robin’s moment of kindness vanished as though it had never been, as she seemed again to smell Mazu’s dirty foot, revealed for her to kiss.
‘Um – I’d like to make a donation to the church.’
Mazu surveyed her unsmilingly for a moment, then said,
‘Sit down.’
Robin did as she was told. As she did so, she noticed an incongruous object on a shelf behind Mazu’s head: a small, white plastic air freshener, which seemed entirely pointless in this room full of incense.
‘So you’ve decided you want to give us money, have you?’ said Mazu, scrutinising Robin with those dark, crooked eyes.
‘Yes. Taio talked to me,’ Robin said, certain that Mazu would know this, ‘and I’ve been doing some hard thinking, and, well, I see he was right, I am still struggling with materialism, and it’s time to put my money where my mouth is.’
A small smile appeared on the long, pale face.
‘Yet you refused spirit bonding.’
‘I felt so awful after Revelation, I didn’t think I was worthy,’ said Robin. ‘But I want to eradicate the false self, I really do. I know I’ve got a lot of work to do.’
‘How are you intending to donate? You didn’t bring any credit cards with you.’
Robin registered this admission that her locker had been opened and searched.
‘Theresa told me not to. Theresa’s my sister, she – she didn’t want me to come here at all. She said the UHC’s a cult,’ said Robin apologetically.
‘And you listened to your sister.’
‘No, but I really came here just to explore things. I didn’t know I’d stay. If I’d known how I’d feel once I’d had my Week of Service I’d have brought my bank cards – but if you let me write to Theresa, I’ll be able to arrange a bank transfer to the church’s account. I’d like to donate a thousand pounds.’
She saw, by the slight widening of Mazu’s eyes, that she hadn’t expected so large a donation.
‘Very well,’ she said, opening a drawer in her desk and withdrawing a pen, writing paper and a blank envelope. She also pushed a template letter to copy and a card printed with the UHC’s bank account details across the desk. ‘You can do that now. Luckily,’ said Mazu, taking a ring of keys from another drawer, ‘your sister wrote to you just this morning. I was going to ask somebody to give you her letter at lunch.’
Mazu now headed towards the cabinet on which Daiyu’s portrait stood and unlocked it. Robin caught a glimpse of piles of envelopes held together with elastic bands. Mazu extracted one of these, relocked the cabinet and said, still holding the letter,
‘I’ll be back in a moment.’
When the door had closed behind Mazu, Robin took a quick look around the office, her eye falling on a plug socket in the skirting board, into which nothing was plugged. With the camera she believed was hidden in the air freshener recording her every move she didn’t dare examine it, but she suspected, having used such devices herself, that this innocent socket was also a covert recording device. Possibly Mazu had left the room to see what she’d do if left alone, so Robin didn’t move from her chair, but set to work copying out the template letter.
Mazu returned a few minutes later.
‘Here,’ she said, holding out the letter addressed to Robin.
‘Thank you,’ said Robin, opening it. She was certain it had already been opened and read, judging by the suspiciously strong glue used to reseal it. ‘Oh good,’ said Robin, scanning the letter in Midge’s handwriting, ‘she’s given me her new address, I didn’t have it.’
She finished copying out the template letter, addressed the envelope and sealed it.
